It’s nine o’clock, evening but not yet night, and the sky is the colour of peaches. Colours, rather. A pinkish red in the high places and yellow nearer the horizon, as if the sun’s split open and leaked all over the sky.

How do you heal a broken heart? Mine had been reduced to shreds by Mairead, an out and proud lesbian I met at work. Mairead, all hoodies and short hair, didn’t take my feelings for her seriously because I’d had two babies

That surprises me. She never talks about us when we are together. To her, I am this dirty little secret, something she enjoys having by her side. I am okay with that. Personally, I am not out looking for anything that would tie me down.

I stared into his dark eyes. I was washed with pure hate. He hated me. I had no idea why. Three words separated me from gaining his acceptance. I am gay. Those words rang in my ear and danced in the whirlpool of thoughts that strangled my mind. He hated me.

I have arrived in the liminality of the monstrous, and I must assure you of my welfare. In actuality, I’ve never felt more safe and welcome in this shifting, uncertain realm. I am confident in the success of my endeavour.

The first thing I remember is the yellow and black neon sign: men’s bar. It stuck out in the cold, foggy darkness of the Copenhagen night. I was drunk as usual. A lone traveller doing the rounds of a new city’s gay venues.

My name is Nikola Italo. Well, that’s not my real name, but in many ways, that’s me. I am Nikola when I write, when I tell stories. I was Nikola when I discovered what being a feminist means. Now I am one.

The ambience shifts. What looked like a stilted high school dance – stagnant bodies strewn awkwardly across a dance floor – now feels like an Ivy League dining club. The white male old heads all know each other and group off.

Paul’s booze-sodden brain was at the beck and call of an indecisive octopus, pulling on levers protruding from the neurological coral that sent his body conflicting messages. Some of these were organic – sensible motions willing him to eat

I first listened to Jen Cloher on the radio while traveling Down Under. I was intrigued by her authentic voice that matched her unpretentious, somewhat intimate lyrics. Jen’s music got me to dive into the local underground music scene

When a rainbow speaks you in the face – do not tell it to be silent. These things – are dumb luck on a high horse & one day – your cup will be full of fish again. Good – fish don’t only speak in riddles

That was the summer I finally grew into myself, fitting into my skin like a hand in a tight cotton glove. All summer long, I ran my hands across my life, marvelling. I could feel the neat, tucked seams. The stitches.

First of all, I love the term “Queer”. There is something unifying and inclusive about it. It covers a lot of ground. In the past year, I’ve really taken to identifying as queer vs. gay or lesbian. I hear it often in the music scene especially.

The second job I find on Craigslist is wiping the butt of a three-year-old whose favorite food is salami. No one tells me three-year-olds need help on the toilet, so this comes as a surprise. We get in a fight over the last bread roll one afternoon and I quit.

I was passing through the main square of a village, selling pelts so I could feed all the children I have at home, when a man tried to stick his hand up my skirt. Without hesitation I slapped him in the face

Edgewise: A Picture of Cookie Mueller was originally thought of as a film project and turned into a collage of interviews in the style of an oral history sorted by the different periods of Cookie Mueller’s life.

It’s changed. I mean, you know, the first album was a very manic feeling. It needed to come out and I was just doing it for myself. The second album was still personal, but I knew that there were going to be listeners. I kept them in mind while I was writing.

I’m the descendent of a lineage of lycanthropes. As far back as we can trace, the Martins have shed their human coats at midnight of the full moon and roamed the night in packs. Shape shifting is an ability granted only after puberty. Needless to say I spent my childhood in anticipation.

I’m actually using the same guitar that I recorded that soda shop video with, and when I record, I do it in someone else’s studio, or rent studio time and an engineer. So honestly, I haven’t upgraded any equipment since starting.

I first learned about Jef Barbara a few years back, when Jef contacted me asking to get listed on Transnational Queer Underground. I really liked their music and so I took this chance of them playing a show here in Berlin to finally meet and interview Jef. I enjoy the honesty you can feel coming from their music

I push the table away to be more comfortable. In the formula, it must be at night, so I close the shutters. They say that this recipe works perfectly, it does miracles. I light two candles and I sit on the carpet. I take the bay leaf and the lighter. I think hard about Vincent. I desire him.

Girls to the Front – The True Story of the Riot Grrrl Revolution by Sara Marcus caught my interest from the first page on. Starting off with her personal story of feeling alienated and isolated by the people around her and experiencing threats from boys, she found out about Riot Grrrl in 1992 through a Newsweek article that marked an important point in the history of Riot Grrrl.

This July Berlin had the pleasure of welcoming Kumbia Queers, a band from Mexico & Argentina in Berlin for no less than three concerts, in which they introduced us to their version of cumbia, aka tropipunk.

A few weeks ago I saw Rae Spoon at a show at SilverFuture in Berlin. He’s that small guy with big glasses and a great voice. He presented his new album „Love is a Hunter“ and I just couldn’t stop listening to it every day since then.

In the last years Butler focused more on a political theory about violence and war. She gave a speech on queer alliances and antimilitarism at the Berliner Volksbühne in order to receive the prize for civil engagement of the CSD. She declined that prize…

Jamming unlooked-for venues with hundreds of people, week upon week, the rhythms of Homo Hop are loud and strong in Toronto, Canada. One of the city’s hottest groups, Yes Yes Y’all (or YYY for short), is barely two years old and has already grown a wide and diverse following.

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